Investigative Reporting
by Atypicall
Summary: Mary's new story leads to problems from an old foe. ATF/AU
1. Default Chapter

Title: Investigative Reporting  
Warning: Language and violence  
Author's note: This is set in the ATF/AU, and I wish to thank Mog for making it up. Starts with Mary and the rest of the female characters going into the mountains for some quality 'girl time', only to find an enemy of the Seven and a subject of Mary's next investigative piece is loose and out for revenge. My character Sam is here. All the guys but Nathan and Josiah. Thanks to those that came up with the names of the Seven's horses.  
Archive: Go ahead, but tell me first.  
  
~~  
  
Mary Travis stepped off the elevator onto the seventh floor of the Denver ATF building. She quickly wove her way through a small sea of desks into the bull pen, an area where her friends in the agency spent most of their time when not out checking leads.  
  
Mary had met The Magnificent Seven, an aptly named group of seven ATF special agents, a few years before through her father in law, Judge Orrin Travis. The Seven were heralded far and wide in Colorado as the best team of federal agents in the West. Mary for one, didn't at all doubt it.  
  
Mary waved and nodded at a few people along the way. She knew most of the agents on the floor at least in passing. She rounded the corner and nearly ran smack dab into someone. She began to apologize and then looked up. Soft, serene blue eyes gazed back at her. "Sorry Vin. Didn't mean to run into you."  
  
Vin Tanner, the Seven's resident sharpshooter merely grinned. His easy Texas drawl wafted through the air. "No problem Mary. You come to see Chris?"   
  
Mary felt her cheeks grown warm at the mention of the team's foul tempered leader. Chris Larabee, blonde, tall and in his mid thirties held a special appeal to the reporter. Each of them had lost a spouse in recent years, events from which they were both still recovering. And each held, although neither was quite ready to admit it, a long held interest in the other.  
  
"No actually Vin I came to see Sam."  
  
Vin nodded, grinning madly. "Right. The girls only trip Buck keeps talking about. Haven't gotten the man to shut up about losin Inez for the week. And JD's all in a huff about Casey goin."  
  
Mary frowned. "Why? Aren't you guys all going down to Durango to do some fishing and rafting?"  
  
"Well sure, but Buck still doesn't like the idea of being without the female element, if only for a few days."  
  
"Where is Sam anyway? It's close to six and we have to meet Inez and Casey at the Saloon in half an hour."  
  
Vin pointed in the direction he had come from. "I think she commandeered Ez's computer to finish her report. Damn if that girl don't type faster than Ezra even. It's something I could get right jealous of. Of course, that could also be because Sam don't indulge in Ezra's five dollar words. I figure she rightly cuts half time in her reports cause she just says cop, instead of a 'low ranking officer of the law'."  
  
Mary smiled. "SO you all still haven't managed to wrangle her a desk yet?" Vin had started to walk away and just shrugged. "She's been here three months Vin!"   
  
The sharpshooter called over his shoulder, "Not my fault! Take it up with the penny pinchers upstairs! Maybe you could write an editorial."  
  
Mary spotted Sam across the bullpen, fingers scurrying across Ezra Standish's keyboard. Sam typed with her feet propped up on Ezra's desktop, leaning back in his chair with the keyboard resting on her lap. Her eyes were focused intently on the screen and a blue ball point pen was clasped between her teeth.  
  
Team Seven had met Samantha Hunter some sixth months before while during an undercover operation. Together they had discovered a plot to assassinate the president of the United States and helped to foil it. Upon returning to Colorado, Chris had offered Sam a job with Team Seven. It had taken the stubborn woman more than three months before finally accepting Larabee's offer.   
  
Not to say that the brass upstairs was pleased with Larabee's new addition. But considering the Seven's exemplary arrest record, they were loathe to refuse his request. Sam was an ex jewel thief with deep rooted connections to the Chicago crime family. They trusted her about as much as anyone trusted Buck with an unsuspecting woman, little to none. They had gone out of their way to make her transition difficult, including not giving her a proper work station. Sam refused to make it an issue, simply moving from desk to desk where there was an empty computer.  
  
Now, after more than sixth months of work without rest, the boys of the Seven were being forced to take a week's vacation. Mary, having gotten to know Sam through her connection with the ATF had asked her to accompany her, Inez, and JD's girlfriend Casey on their trip into the mountains.  
  
Ezra Standish walked back into the bullpen, stirring a cup of steaming coffee. The enigmatic southern undercover agent halted mid-stride. He lifted an eyebrow and frowned. He set the cup down on Wilmington's desk and strode over to where Sam was seated.   
  
He cleared his throat. Sam glanced up at him. "What?" It was no secret that Sam and Ezra got along about as well as oil and water. Ezra liked everything in his life to be just so, including his desk. Sam always seemed bent on pissing him off, and most of the time she succeeded.  
  
"I would be most grateful for you to please remove your offending appendages from the immediate vicinity of my work station." He began to pick gingerly at her jeans with his fingertips.  
  
She blinked. "English Ez, I need English." She swatted his hand away from her pant leg.   
  
The southerner let out a long suffering sigh. "Move you damn feet off my desk you irritating reprobate."  
  
She smiled sweetly. "See now Ez. Had you just said that in the first place." Sam spotted Mary. "Hey Mary. Let me just print this out and we can go." Having gotten no satisfactory response, Ezra picked up Sam's legs and dropped them onto the floor.   
  
Sam stood, tossing her long copper hair over her shoulder. Ezra immediately began whisking at several imaginary pieces of dirt. In his fervent dusting, Ezra whisked Sam's pen off the table. Buck came in and crept up behind Sam, who had bent over to retrieve her pen.  
  
Mary had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "I can't believe you work with them every day. Doesn't it drive you mad?"  
  
"It might, but mostly I just ignore em." Sam seemed to sense Wilmington behind her. "Touch my butt Buck and you'll lose something you care about even more than that little black book of yours," she growled. Wilmington lifted his hands innocently.  
  
Samantha righted herself and fished her papers from the printer, stuffing them into a manila envelope. She waved them like a trophy at Mary. "Let me go drop these with Chris."  
  
Mary followed doggedly on the younger woman's heels. Sam's long, fast, ground eating stride covered the space to Larabee's office in half the time it took Mary, although the two women were approximately the same height. Mary never would have thought than anyone could work in such close proximity with the Seven, but as of yet Sam had managed quite well, probably with only a few hundred dollars worth of Psychiatrist's bills. Despite the ribbings she often received, Sam persevered, and gave as good as she got. Mary couldn't help but to like her.  
  
Sam wrapped gently on Chris's door. The short, gruff voice from behind it called for her to enter. "Hey Chris. I finished the Lorenzo report. Can I head out now?"  
  
Larabee, blonde, thin and gorgeous in the rugged, cowboy sort of way looked up from the stack of papers in his hands. "You finished with everything else you need to do?" Sam nodded. "Mary here?" Sam nodded again, allowing herself a small smile that was almost instantly killed by Chris's glower.  
  
Mary entered the office, hands clasped nervously. "Hi Chris."  
  
"Evening Mary." The two of them just looked at each other quietly. Sam stared at the ceiling, then at the floor, than at the tiny muscle flexing in Chris's jaw. Finally she cleared her throat. Chris snapped out of his haze. "Right. Go ahead. You're coming over to the ranch tomorrow with Vin to pick out a horse right?"  
  
"Yeah, around nine if that's okay."  
  
Larabee shrugged. "Fine by me. The horses need to get out. You're sure you can handle a four horse in the mountains?"  
  
The women were headed to a cabin deep in the mountains west of Boulder. They would trailer their horses and gear in as far as possible before loading up and going the rest of the way on horseback. "I can manage. I've trailered all over the California circuit when I showed down in San Juan Capistrano and Arcadia. See you tomorrow then."   
  
Sam headed for the door. Realizing Mary wasn't behind her she went back and gave a light tug on her sleeve. Mary blushed and followed her out. The two women said goodbye to everyone. Sam called out a time to meet Tanner at his apartment the next morning. They reached the elevators and Sam leaned over, eyes twinkling. "Chicken."  
  
Mary pursed her lips in a vain attempt to look cross. "Shut up Hunter. I don't see you dating much."  
  
"Hey! There was that one guy..."  
  
Mary cut her off. "Dinner with a suspect doesn't count and you know it. I'm waiting for Chris to ask me out himself. That's all."  
  
"Then you might be waitin a long time. Larabee gets a look in his eye halfway between a deer caught in the headlights and a lovesick puppy whenever you're around. You should just ask him. It is the twenty first century after all."  
  
"I'll ask Chris out when you ask one of them out," Mary through the challenge into the open, not really expecting a response.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"JD."  
  
"Too young, and Casey."  
  
"Josiah."  
  
"Too old."  
  
"Nathan."  
  
"Too uptight and too taken. Just because Rain lives in New York doesn't mean anything."  
  
Mary frowned. "Buck." This suggestion didn't proffer any sort of response, just a hysterical fit of laughter. Wilmington was known far and wide as one of the founding members of the girl of the month club. Sometimes it was more like girl of the week.  
  
She grinned. "Okay so that was a bad example. What about Vin? You get along with Vin."  
  
"Can't deal with the long hair. And I don't know, he's so quiet." Even Sam thought that excuse was weak.  
  
"Fine, Ezra."  
  
This suggestion brought about another laughing fit. "Mary you said date, not blood bath. We argue about things we agree on. You want me to ask out the man who continuously calls me a loathsome curmudgeon, irritating reprobate and what was the other one? Oh yeah, contemptuous villain."  
  
"You just have an answer for everything don't you?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "I try. And that's only what he calls me in English. Let's just forget about the other six languages the man speaks fluently. He has yelled at me in Cantonese. Cantonese?! Who the hell speaks Cantonese?"  
  
Mary grinned wolfishly. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."  
  
"Okay, so enough about me. Working on a new story?" Sam's tone was light as she steered the conversation in another direction.  
  
"Oh no. You got yourself into this. I'm not letting you off that easy. You have a thing for Ezra, don't you?"  
  
Sam folded her arms across the top of Mary's sedan and replied. "I do not have a THING for Standish."  
  
Mary opened the doors to the car and they climbed in. "Oh yes, you do."  
  
"No I don't. Mind the fact that if I spend too much time around any one of them I start thinking about the last time I had sex. Which was far too long ago in my opinion, but I digress. But no, I definitely do not have a thing for Ezra. He's irritating and uptight and pretentious and sarcastic and ... and," Sam shook her head and held her hands up in front of her. "Ooh, sometimes I just want to throttle him."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Are all reporters this nosy Mary, or is it just you?"  
  
"Most of us."   
  
Sam shook her head and sighed. "Seriously though, are you working on a new story?"  
  
"Can you keep a secret?" Sam nodded. "Remember Bartonelli? He ran a small internet business that made him some cash, but he got really rich selling drugs. He was arrested for drug smuggling and murder right after you moved here. He killed that exec over in Cherry Creek. The one who worked in his office."  
  
"Yeah sure I remember him. He sold meth and coke to those kids in the suburbs. One girl OD'ed during a party. Man's as guilty as sin. So?"  
  
"I don't think he did it."  
  
"Excuse me? There was enough evidence to make the case twice over."  
  
"Don't get me wrong, I still think the man is scum, but I don't think he killed those people. The evidence was too neat, too easy. I mean, they found the gun in the back of his car. And the girl didn't just OD. The drugs in her system were laced with bleach and drain cleaner, but all of Bartonelli's stuff was pure."  
  
Sam shrugged, not convinced. "Mary, speaking from personel experience, most crooks aren't that smart. Stupid and criminal are two words that usually go together. And I say this even though I used to be a card carrying member of the profession."  
  
"You carried cards?"  
  
"Funny. Do you have any idea who else could have done it?"  
  
"I'm meeting an informant tonight. Actually, I was hoping you would come with me. The meet is set for nine and I'm a little apprehensive about meeting him alone. You don't even have to get out of the car, and I'm not really expecting trouble, but I'd feel better."  
  
Sam frowned and leveled her gaze at the reporter. "I don't suppose I have much choice considering that you're my ride."  
  
"No, I don't suppose you do."  
  
"You should have asked Chris."  
  
"Oh please. I'd have half the department watching me for what really is no big deal. Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that he's careful, but not when it interferes with my work. Besides, an agent and a reporter working together is like..." Mary paused to gather her thoughts. "Well I can't think of any anecdotes at the moment, but it's bad."  
  
Sam whistled. "Hello? I'm an agent Mary, or did you forget?"  
  
"I didn't forget. You're just different."  
  
"Ah, there it is; the blasé reference to my past indiscretions. Well fine then. And here's another little tradition we criminals have, you owe me for this Mary."  
  
Mary offered her hand. Sam took it. "Agreed."  
  
"I still say that Bartonelli's guilty. And I don't care if the evidence comes up neat and tidy, not even if it came with a bow."  
  
"I guess we'll find out tonight then?"  
  
"I guess we will."  
  
--  
  
Sam hunkered down lower in her seat. The two door sedan offered little in the way of comfort as she tried to stretch her lanky 5'8'' frame. She'd been sitting in the dark for more than twenty minutes, watching the two people talking across the street.  
  
Mary's informant had showed up fifteen minutes after nine. Mary had been standing on the sidewalk, the dim light from a far off streetlight casting itself over her blonde hair. Not a single car or person passed. Not that Sam was surprised. It was late, and these were the slums. The only sign of life she'd seen at all in fact, was the night manager at a local service station some twelve blocks away.  
  
The man showed up looking like an outcast from an old spy movie. He was dressed in utterly bland colors: tan suit, full length brown trench coat, and a dark brown hat pulled low over his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and his shirt collar pulled up around his neck. He walked nervously, shooting glances in every direction as he strode toward the reporter. In his efforts to blend in, the man made himself completely conspicuous.  
  
The informant shied away from the tiny circle of light provided by the street lamp. Eventually Mary went to him, stopping in the shadows of a small alley between two buildings. Sam watched them intently for a couple minutes before returning her attention to her position in her seat.  
  
Sam wasn't sure how much later, probably no longer than five or six minutes, the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. The air in the car seemed to chill. Sam had had these sorts of premonitions since she was very young, and the little whining voice yelling inside her head had saved her more times than she wanted to admit. Like the time she had stopped at a green light, aggravating the drivers behind her and narrowly missing a truck as it ran the red light. Suffice it to say, when the little voice called, Sam listened.   
  
She sat bolt upright in the chair and began to scan the street with her eyes. A movement a few blocks down the street drew her attention. A black car pulled slowly onto the street and made its way toward Mary and her informant. Its lights were off. As it drew nearer, it began to pick up steam.  
  
Sam swore loudly and fumbled with the door handle. Neither Mary nor the concealed man seemed to notice the oncoming car. Sam half jumped, half tripped out of the passenger side. The black car was speeding now, and was less than a block away. "Mary!!"  
  
Sam pulled her pistol from its holster and ran toward Mary. "Mary get down! Mary!" She wasn't sure if the older woman had heard her, but the car was upon them. A black muzzle protruded from a small crack in the window. Sam counted six muzzle flashes. The car whipped by her and she fired at it. It screamed around the next corner and disappeared.   
  
Sam sprinted to the place she had last seen Mary. The blonde woman was hunched over on the ground. The man in the trench coat was gone. Sam let out a relieved sigh when she saw Mary stir. Wide eyed and breathless, she stared up at Sam. "Believe me now?"  
  
"I think your theory has definite possibilities."  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
Sam smiled wryly as she pulled her to her feet. "A little voice told me. Can we go now?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
End Chapter 1  
I realize this is a little short, but it seemed like a good place to leave you hanging. Next chapter: more perspectives from the female characters on the boys, and a demon from Chris's past comes back. Hope you like it so far.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Old Enemies

Title: Investigative Reporting  
Chapter 2:   
Author's Note: Okay, now for the meat of the story. The girls head out on their camping trip. Their first night there, the girls are attacked and a trap is set for the seven. The thing with Cuervo really happened to a friend of mine. Tap is a representation of my own dear mount, who has in fact done most of the things described in the story. Thanks again to Mog and those who came up with the names of the horses.  
Warnings: Language, Violence, Crude humor  
  
~~  
  
The city rolled by as the cab sped down the street. She noticed the neighborhood housing becoming slowly more bleak and dilapidated. Tall, urban townhouses gave way to small, single story houses, then to cramped apartment buildings, and finally all she saw were gray, crumbling building that looked like their day with the demolition crew was long past.  
  
Sam didn't really stop to ponder the neighborhood for very long. She was still thinking about Mary's run in the night before. The stubborn reporter refused to report the incident to the police. "I'm fine, my informant's fine, so what's the point? I'd have to tell the police what I know about Bartonelli and that would kill my story. I don't want to tip off my suspect."  
  
"I think you're too late on that count. Who do you think was shooting at you?"  
  
"Random drive by," Mary said flippantly. "Happens all the time in these neighborhoods." Sam refrained from pointing out that they were the only ones on the street, they were not in disputed gang turf, and no gang in the world she knew of drove a Lexus. Unfortunately, Sam had failed to get the plate number.  
  
The cab drew to a stop along the curb. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Samantha queried. She saw Tanner's truck parked on the other side of the street, so she already knew the answer.  
  
"This is the place you asked for lady. But if I was you, I wouldn't get out of the cab. This place gives me the creeps. They call it Purgatorio, a joke, get it?"  
  
Sam slowly opened her door and got out. "Hysterical," she muttered.   
  
She handed the cabbie his fare. "It's your funeral lady. I'm outta here." Before Sam could respond, the cab tore off down the street. Sam took the time to look around. A group of rough looking teens glared at her accusingly. Sam trotted toward Tanner's truck. A few younger kids were playing with a new soccer ball on the sidewalk.  
  
Tanner's truck sat, unlocked, by an old brick building. Despite the early morning, the heat waves were already starting to roll in. Sam guessed the temperature to be around 78 degrees, and as the day wore on it would only grow hotter.  
  
She peered into the window of the truck. The passenger seat was all torn up with what looked like claw marks. Vin had often joked that his truck was three colors, white, green, and rust. Sam thought the truck should be headed for the scrap heap.  
  
Eventually, Sam left the truck and went to the door. She tried the buzzer, but either it was broken or never worked in the first place. She tried the door. It swung open easily, big surprise. Sam walked up the stairs, not trusting the rickety old elevator. She saw a few people on her way to the third floor, but none of them stayed around to talk. They just sort of peered out before slamming the door shut.  
  
"Friendly bunch." Tanner's apartment was at the end of the hallway. The bare floorboards creaked under her feet and a fluorescent light blinked and buzzed. The floor, she figured, was more dirt than wood. A few children's toys lay scattered amongst the filth. Sam knocked lightly on Tanner's door. The hinges creaked with protest, then the door swung open.  
  
Sam poked her head inside, "Vin? Vin are you home? It's Sam. I know I'm a little early. Hello?" Sam got no response. She edged farther into the apartment and surveyed the scene before her.   
  
The apartment was larger than she had anticipated. It seemed to take up half the floor. Concrete support beams stuck out of the ground and it looked like Vin's apartment was made wider by knocking down a few walls. Save for the area directly in front of her it was mostly bare, with few furnishings. To her left was the kitchen which had grease stains everywhere. Farther beyond the kitchen area was what Sam guessed to be the bathroom. To her right was an old, faded leather couch and a small TV that looked like it was rarely ever used. ON the far end of the apartment a mattress lay on the ground, the covers tossed to one side. A punching bag hung from the ceiling in the middle of the empty space.  
  
"Vin?" Sam shut the door behind her and walked into the kitchen. Suddenly, there came a soft snarl and something launched itself upon her shoulders. Sam jumped nearly out of her skin and screamed. The thing clawed at her hair and she had to shield her face with her hands. After fumbling for a moment her hands grasped the small, furry creature and peeled it off her head. She tossed it away.  
  
An angry orange tabby landed on its feet a few yards away. It hissed and snarled, swatting the air in Sam's direction. She stared at the cat wide eyed. She was still in a state of shock when she felt the hand on her shoulder. "Shit!" Sam jumped away, tripping over a bowl on the ground and slamming to the floor. Someone started to laugh.  
  
Sam grasped the aluminum water bowl and tossed it at the laughing sharpshooter. "You think this is funny Vin? That damned cat nearly gave me a heart attack! And you, don't you know better than to sneak up on a person?"  
  
"I was under the impression that this was my apartment Sam. Don't you know better than to enter someone's home uninvited?"  
  
"I was invited Vin and the door was open."  
  
"I never lock it."  
  
"In this neighborhood?" She asked incredulously.   
  
"Nope." He grinned, "I can always count on Cuervo here to scare away intruders."  
  
"Shut up Tanner. Where the hell did you get that damned guard cat anyway? Most pet stores like the animals NOT to attack their patrons."  
  
"Honestly?"  
  
"No, I want you to make up some cock and bull story about the friggin thing. Yes honestly!"  
  
"Funny story. I was on my way back here a few winters ago and I decided to stop for coffee and something to eat. I didn't want to turn off my engine, so I left it idling outside. And yeah, I realize that could be construed as a bad idea, but my truck can be kinda fickle about startin when the weather gets cold."  
  
"Go figure," Sam remarked dryly.  
  
"Anyway, I came back out when I heard this weird whining sound. I thought it was the engine so I turned off the truck and popped the hood. I look around and what do I see but this dirty, scruffy looking cat butt poking out of my engine. Cuervo here had his head stuck down in my engine and it was sittin on top of my battery. I guess he climbed inside looking for someplace warm. So I unwedge its head and the darned cat attaches itself to my shoulder and is just purrin like there's no tomorrow. I haven't been able to get rid of him since."  
  
"You're kidding me."  
  
"Truth is stranger than fiction. He comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes hangin out with the kids and sometimes holing up here."  
  
"Is that where you were, with those kids I saw coming in?"  
  
Tanner nodded. "I play ball with them sometimes. That's how I knew you were here too. Paulo told me he saw a pretty white woman who looked like she was lost enter the building. Aren't too many round here that fit that description. You ready to head out?"  
  
"The farther I get from that cat the better. Let's go."  
  
--  
  
Larabee's ranch was hidden away in a small valley in the mountains outside of Boulder. The area was beautiful, despite the fact, or maybe because of it, that there was little done to make it look beautiful. Chris obviously did not indulge in landscapers or the practice of manicuring his lawn. The ranch looked rugged and wild. Hundreds of acres of land stretched out before her eyes.  
  
"Oh wow," was all Sam could muster when she saw it.  
  
"Not a bad spread huh? Do you realize how much this would cost now?" Sam shook her head, her eyes never leaving the landscape. "Millions I'd guess. Chris bought it before everyone started to move out here and land prices shot through the roof." The truck lumbered up to the ranch house, sputtering little clouds of smoke behind it.  
  
The two friends ambled down the worn path to Larabee's roomy eight horse barn. "Horses stay out most of the year, either in runs or one of the big pastures. Only horses Chris keeps in here full time are his riding horse Job, and Ezra's chestnut. That damn horse bout as finicky as his owner when it comes to 'adverse weather conditions.' Used to keep him outside, but old Chaucer would open the pasture gate and come on in whenever a storm came. Was kind of rough on Chris, seein as he had to round up all the other horses."   
  
Samantha laughed. "Sounds like his owner." Vin chuckled.  
  
"Right now he's got all you girls riding horses in here. See there, that's Mary's palomino, Goldie. Casey's bay, Nova is the horse in the third stall. Inez is borrowing Clyde, Buck's gray. You're the only one who doesn't have a mount yet."  
  
"Larabee have any specific breed?"  
  
Vin shrugged. "Mostly Quarter Horses, but there are a few Appy's and Paints mixed in. Chaucer, and JD's horse, Seven are Appendix."  
  
It was then that Tanner realized Sam was no longer listening. Her attention, as well as her body, had been drawn to a stall down at the end of the aisle. Tanner trotted over to her. "Who is this? He's a Thoroughbred right?" she queried.  
  
A willowy dark bay pressed his chest against the front of the stall. The gelding had wide set, large, expressive eyes. His neck and shoulders were dark, but his haunches and belly were a rich red brown. He had two white socks on his front and rear right legs. There was a star in the middle of his forehead and a white snip that ran between his nostrils. Muscles rippled beneath his silky coat.   
  
He was bigger than most of the horses on the property, but not large by any of Sam's English hunter standards. She was used to the big European Warmbloods that topped out somewhere between seventeen and eighteen hands. The Thoroughbred lounging in the stall could even be called short, topping out at a shade over sixteen hands.  
  
"That there is Tap, short for Velvet Tapestry. Chris saved him from the killers a couple months ago. Used to be a decent allowance horse on the track, which explains the name. Used to be like I said, till he ran on a bum leg. Pulled his shoulder muscles pretty bad when he went down in the gate. Owners would have kept him, but for the fact that they couldn't get him near a starting gate again. What good is a racehorse that can't race right? So they sent him to auction, which is where Chris outbid a meatpacker for him. He's got all the makings of a nice horse, but he's a foul tempered son of a bitch."  
  
The beautiful bay nuzzled Sam's palm. She looked over at the sharpshooter in disbelief. "Oh yeah, he's a killer." She scratched the off kilter diamond on the middle of the gelding's forehead. Tap leaned into the caress and whickered throatily.  
  
"Okay, so foul tempered was the wrong choice of words. Look Sam, that horse is trouble. He is real sweet till you try to ride him. Then he's, he's," the long haired man struggled to find the correct wording, "he's a firecracker. He throws shit at you just because he can and it's not like he's mean about it. He bolts, he bucks, he rears, he shies. He pulls more pranks than me, Ez, Buck and JD combined."  
  
"He can't be that bad," Sam scoffed.  
  
"Really? Well let's see. He has bucked Buck off, go figure cause I won't. He once saw a particularly vicious looking plastic bag out on the trail and jumped a good ten feet to the side, leaving JD in a puddle. Of course, he then proceeded to pick up the bag and chase after the other horses, waving the thing in the air like a flag. He once bit Ezra's thumb and refused to let go for a good five minutes."  
  
Vin racked his brain for more examples of the horse's antics. "Mind you he didn't break the skin or anything, just wouldn't let go. Then there was the time he took a rather large section out of the farrier's pants. Then there was a time Chris tried riding him, but the horse bloated so big that when Chris went to get on, the saddle ended up beneath the horse. And mind you he does all of this and then looks at you with that innocent 'what on earth did I do' look that he's givin me right now. Oh yeah, and he took Chris's coffee right out of his hand and dumped it over Nathan's head. Then..."  
  
Sam held up her hands to get Vin to stop. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. "Please stop. I can't take any more."  
  
Vin smiled softly. "Look, Peso is due for shoes today and I want to talk to the shoer myself, so I arranged for someone to take you out to try whatever horse you choose."  
  
"I have to try him."  
  
"Figured as much. Why do you think I had Chris bring him in?" He started to walk away down the aisle. "You two ought get along just fine! Just don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
"Well you gotta love a horse with character!"  
  
A voice floated out from one of the stalls. "Yes, and that irritating example of an equine has it in spades." Ezra stepped out of the stall across the aisle and two doors down, leading Chaucer behind him.  
  
Sam froze momentarily, then spun toward Vin. "Vin, Ezra? You're having me ride out with Ezra? That's not funny. Vin? I'll end up dead at the side of the trail. Vin don't you laugh at me! I'll get you for this Tanner!"  
  
"Are you quite done now? Chaucer and I both detest waiting."  
  
Sam sighed. The idea of spending the morning on the trail with Standish rankled her stomach, but she desperately wanted to ride. "I'll get his tack."  
  
--  
  
Sam mounted the tall, dark bay after checking his girth twice to make sure it was tight. She eyed the gelding suspiciously. Tap craned his head around to look at her. "Oh don't look at me like that. You know what you did." Tap snorted.  
  
Ezra rode over to her on Chaucer, barely managing to conceal his grin. Sam pushed a lock of soaking wet hair out of her face and glared at the southerner. "Not a word Standish." Tiny rivulets of water ran out of her copper locks and off her shirt sleeves. She swung into the saddle, grimacing as she heard an audible squish when she sat.   
  
It was the second time she had been dumped by the gelding on their ride. Sam was willing to let the first go as an accident, but now she wasn't so sure. In order to avoid a suspicious looking puddle in the middle of the trail, Tap had dodged to the side, underneath a low hanging branch. Sam, who had not been paying enough attention, was swept off the horse over his haunches.  
  
The second time Sam was positive that the horse had dumped her on purpose. After an hour or so on the trail they had stopped to rest and water the horses. When Sam went to get back on Tap was ready. As her leg was arcing over his back he bolted. She ended up perched precariously behind the cantle of the saddle, her left foot still in the stirrup and her left hand on the pommel. She might have managed to stay on, but for the fact that Tap, on his second bucking circuit around the small clearing, stopped dead and then whirled on his hindquarters in the opposite direction. Sam went flying over his shoulder and into the stream.  
  
Ezra gazed at her innocently. "Did I say a word? I've been practically mute our entire ride." Ezra made a small hand gesture to Chaucer. The chestnut threw up his head and whinnied, sounding an awful lot like mocking laughter.   
  
Sam shot Ezra an accusing look. "Your version of mute is more than most people talk in a day."  
  
"See? I am curtailing my verbosity for your sake. Would you like to head back now?"  
  
"Yes Ezra, thank you."  
  
--  
  
"Have a good ride?" Vin smirked, his eyes dancing and full of mischief.  
  
By this time Sam had almost fully dried, the mid morning sun baking off the moisture in her clothes. She smiled sweetly. "Actually Vin it was lovely. You made too much of this horse. He really is charming." There was no way in hell Sam would give Tanner the satisfaction of saying, 'I told you so.'  
  
Vin's eyes narrowed. "Really Ez?"  
  
The lie slipped over the southerner's tongue easily. "Absolutely. Tap and Ms. Hunter got along famously. In fact, she expressed her interest on taking him on her camping trip."  
  
Vin eyed the undercover agent suspiciously. Then he shrugged. He looked aver at Chris, who was coiling a length of rope around his arm. "What do you think Cowboy?"  
  
"I think her riding him means I don't have to. That's good enough for me. Not my place to stop someone with a death wish. Go ahead and stick him in the stall you found him in. He can stay there till you all leave in the morning."  
  
Sam nodded and swung off, landing lightly on her toes. She straightened slowly. On the far side of the horse only Ezra could see her grimace. Her butt, as well as her ego and several other places on her body were bruised from her falls. She took a deep breath and walked toward the barn with all the dignity she could muster and hoped no one could hear the sound of water squishing inside her shoes. Tap, for all his earlier protests, followed like a perfect gentleman.  
  
--  
  
It was eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains to Sam's left. She drove slowly, carefully around the hairpin turns in the road, only half listening to the conversation that the other three women were having.  
  
Inez laughed heartily from the back seat and Sam stopped thinking about the sizeable blue and purple bruise on her hip. She started to listen to the others. "...Think about it Mary, the years of all that pent up emotion. He doesn't date, doesn't even flirt. You could have some real fun with him if you could get him to relax, if you catch my drift." She wiggled her eyebrows.  
  
"Inez!" Mary sounded mortified. The other three women laughed heartily. Mary came back with a dig of her own. "And what of you Inez? Are you ever going to stop leading Buck around by the nose?"  
  
Inez's dark eyes danced. "Personally I don't think I lead him by the nose, but whatever appendage I am leading him from, it's way too much fun to stop." Inez grinned wolfishly, "And maybe someday. After all, Senor Wilmington is a big man, si?" This time they all broke into laughter.  
  
"I don't know Inez," Sam shook her head. "It's not always true what they say. I mean, look at Michelangelo's David, big hands, big feet, so disappointing."  
  
Inez wiped a tear from her eye. "What about you Casey? Give us the dirt on JD."  
  
Casey blushed, a deep crimson more red than her shirt. Casey was by far the youngest of the four women. At twenty-two she was seven years Sam's junior, eight to Inez and more than ten to Mary. She was also the quietest when it came to talking about the Seven. She merely mumbled a response.  
  
"What was that Case? We didn't hear you up here," Sam prodded.  
  
"I said I wouldn't know. JD and I haven't...I mean we never..."  
  
Mary turned in her seat. "You've been dating him for three years." Casey nodded meekly. "And in all that time you never..." Casey shook her head.  
  
She placed her head in her hands. She felt like she might cry or laugh, whichever happened to spill out first. "He believes in waiting till marriage."  
  
Inez gaped. Sam slapped her hand over her mouth, but failed to suppress a snort. Mary reached over to the young woman and patted her hand in a motherly way. "Well that's real sweet Casey."  
  
Sam peered into her rearview mirror and smirked. "Yeah, that's very cute. Very 1940's. The boy's chaste."  
  
Casey shot her a dirty look. "Well it seems to me that only person whose love life we have not discussed is yours Sam."  
  
Samantha shrugged. "I'm lucky. You have no ammo considering that my love life is pretty much nonexistent. In the last ten years the longest relationship I've had with a man was my plutonic friendship with my gay riding instructor." She blushed, realizing exactly how pathetic that sounded, even to her. "Oh look, we're here. Pity we can't finish this conversation." She guided the truck and trailer into the dirt parking lot at the trail head.  
  
For the time being their conversation was put on hold. Each woman was busy unloading her horse and gear from the back of the trailer. On top of the four riding horses they had brought an ancient Appaloosa mare to serve as a pack horse.  
  
They were ready within an hour and started up the trail with Mary taking the lead. Casey followed behind her, leading Spot, the pack horse. Mary and Casey were the only two to have ever visited the cabin before. Inez followed on Clyde and Sam and Tap brought up the rear. Had anyone bothered to look behind them, they would have seen a rather interesting argument taking place between horse and rider. Tap wanted to be up front and made Sam know it. Eventually they settled upon a compromise; Tap would stay behind the other horses so long as Sam kept letting him steal bites of grass along the trail.  
  
They traveled steadily upward for the better part of three hours. Sam felt herself get lightheaded as the air grew thinner. Eventually Casey threw on a light sweatshirt. No one talked, each of the women contemplating things to themselves. Casey watched the scenery, Mary watched the trail, and Inez thought about her bar. Sam couldn't help wonder what the rest of the Seven were doing right then...  
  
--  
  
Nathan boarded a flight for New York. The lanky ex medic crammed himself into the window seat in business class beside a fat man and a woman with a bawling baby. He was finally on vacation. His friends had no wounds and no impending battles to be fought. He was free to relax. He had no worries.   
  
He would see Rain for the first time in three months. In a few short hours they would be together again, wandering about New York city. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her smiling face. Eventually he drifted off, and Denver was left behind.  
  
**  
Josiah too had chosen not to go down to Durango with his friends. He packed a small suitcase with clothes and gifts. He would be away for a few days, then return, leaving him nearly a week to get in touch with his spiritual side.   
  
He just wanted to visit his sister first. Josiah smiled as he picked up the small box of chocolates, Hannah's favorite. It had been too long since he had visited the special home where his sister lived. He lingered by the door, breathing deeply the hot, dry air and sighed. Vacations were nice.  
  
**  
The rest of team Seven were gathered together at Chris's ranch, packing for their fishing trip. They planned to leave the next morning, even thought they all knew it was wishful thinking. Someone would have to drag Ezra out of bed and throw him in the shower if they ever wanted to make their nine AM departure time.  
  
Vin relished the chance to spend some quality time with nature. He loved camping, fishing and hunting with nothing but his knife and his wits. He couldn't wait to tackle some of the class four rapids that were sure to be churning in the river. His eyes practically glowed as he thought of it.  
  
Fishing, hiking, camping in an area with no civilization in sight. The very idea made Ezra's stomach turn. He held a great appreciation for the amenities of modern life.   
  
He rationalized his coming to the fact that Maude, his rather overbearing mother had threatened by phone to make a visit the next time he had a vacation. There was nothing he wanted less than to spend a week listening to his mother tell him exactly how he was wasting his life. But then there was that nagging little voice in his head that told him that he was only kidding himself. Spending time with his surrogate family, although he would never openly admit it, was something he looked forward to, even cherished. And despite their arguments to the contrary, he suspected that his friends would be disappointed not to hear him bitch about the weather, the situation and camping in general. They had simply come to expect Ezra's half hearted protests.  
  
Chris stuffed his pack neatly and efficiently. He could finally relax. He would have his friends around him, his family. He could relax with Buck and JD. He could hike with Vin. He could lose all the money he had to Ezra their first night in camp playing poker. Money he had saved just for that reason. He truly hoped that one day he would beat his smooth talking undercover agent, even though he knew his chances were slim to none.  
  
JD didn't like camping all that much. He didn't even like fishing. What he liked was the fact that he could spend some time with Vin, Chris and the others. They could just be there, together, and that was enough for him.  
  
Buck wasn't thinking about the trip at all. He was thinking about Inez and the others. He looked up at his friends. "What do you think the girls are doing right now?"  
  
Every one of his friends shot him a dirty look. "Don't you ever think about anything besides sex?" JD asked.  
  
"No," came unified response from the other three.  
  
"Can I help..." Buck began.  
  
"Here it comes," Vin rolled his eyes.  
  
"...if the ladies cannot deal with..."  
  
"He says it and I'll hit him, by God I mean it," Chris grumbled.  
  
"...my animal magnetism?"   
  
"HE said it," Ezra commented dryly. "I believe it is time for you to carry through on your threat Mr. Larabee." Vin, Chris, Ezra and JD traded glances. Buck sat on the armchair grinning like an idiot and staring out into space. Four pillows hit him at the same time.  
  
"Rest assured Mr. Wilmington that our friends of the female persuasion will not be having an enjoyable evening."  
  
"Why is that Ez?"  
  
"Because unless I am sadly mistaken, those are thunderclouds rolling in as we speak." The other three men turned to witness the oncoming storm. Somewhere, deep inside the leaden gray skies lightning flashed. The clouds settled in to swallow the setting sun, and cast Larabee's ranch in a shroud of darkness.  
  
--  
  
Something felt wrong. She felt it deep inside, a hard knot in her stomach, and it was more than just the thunderstorm. The light from the fire flickered over her features as she stood by the window, staring out into the rain. Casey, Inez and Mary seemed oblivious to any sign of danger, and Sam had to wonder if spending so much time around the Seven was making her paranoid.  
  
Mary left Casey and Inez by the fireplace. They had been tending to the horses when the storm hit and all had ended up sopping wet. It was one of the fiercest storms Mary had seen in all her years living in Colorado. The rain fell in sheets and there were gale force winds tearing at the branches of the trees.  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"Yes, no, maybe. Any more luck getting in touch with your mystery man in the trench coat?"  
  
Mary stole a glance at the others. "Nope. He hasn't been answering my pages and I can't reach him by his cell." She shrugged. "He's probably keeping a low profile. I'll try again when we get back to the city."  
  
"Your suspect, what is it you have on him?"  
  
Mary shrugged. "It's not so much what I have on him, it's what I've found about Bartonelli that makes this interesting. My informant was doling out bank statements and work orders. Bartonelli was still pretty new to the drug game. He received a shipment some eight years ago, but at the time he didn't have a supplier, not even waiting buyers. But despite that, he manages to have one of the biggest cartels in the west set up within a year? I don't think so. My informant was going to tell me more, but well, you know."  
  
"Why do you think he was framed? Who would gain from that?"  
  
"The person who he had to step on to set up his cartel. I just need the name and the pieces will start falling into place.  
  
Lightening flashed outside. A small movement a few hundred yards away caught Sam's eye. "Did you see that?"  
  
"See what?"  
  
Sam didn't respond. Her eyes swept through the darkness until another flash of light illuminated the forest around the cabin. This time Sam was positive she saw something, someone, closer than before. The lightening tore into the muted sky. Sam counted four approaching the cabin. "That. Mary, I think you might be closer than you realize."  
  
Mary had seen the attackers as well. Her pale blue eyes were alive and wide. "Oh my God. Do you really think they're after me?"  
  
Sam cocked her head to the right and shrugged. "That'd be my guess. As far as I know I haven't pissed anyone off that badly in a while. Inez, Casey, we got trouble."  
  
The other two were on their feet in an instant. "What's up?"  
  
"I'm not sure. Get to the horses and start away from the cabin. I'll stay here."  
  
"Do you have your gun?" Casey inquired.  
  
"No Case I don't have my gun. What the hell do I need a 9 mm for on a camping trip? To have target practice with the local flora and fauna?" Sam snapped.  
  
"I don't know, maybe a situation like this?"  
  
"What exactly is a situation like this? Situations like this don't happen to normal people. Now go, all of you, out the window in back." Mary hesitated. "Mary they're after you. You need to get out of here."  
  
With a grim set to her mouth, Mary nodded resignedly. She pushed Casey to the window. Inez hadn't moved. "You can't fight them alone, unarmed Sam."  
  
"I don't really think I can fight them at all Inez, just buy you guys some time. You think two of us are gonna stand a better chance than one, unarmed?"  
  
Inez strode over to the cabin's only closet. "But Senora, I won't be unarmed." She hefted a large wooden bat from the closet floor. "I saw it when I put away my coat." Sam had to smile.  
  
A few tense moments later the front door burst open. Six men, soaking and clad completely in black rushed in. 'These guys look like they shop at the same store as Larabee,' Sam thought wryly. Inez brandished the bat, shaking it threateningly at anyone who came too close.  
  
The last man to come in was of medium height and build. His eyes were brown and his hair line receding. His nose was a little too large for his narrow face and hooked to the left, like it had been broken and badly reset. His expression was pinched and angry. His whole person would have been completely unremarkable, but for the long, jagged scar that began on his forehead, jumped his eye and ended just above his cheekbone.  
  
"Where is Travis? And the girl?" he wasn't speaking to Sam or Inez, rather to his men, as if he was accusing them of some failure.  
  
Samantha smiled sweetly. "I don't think we know any man named Travis, do we Inez? Certainly not with a child."  
  
"No, I don't think we do," Inez answered breezily.  
  
For the first time the man glanced at the two women. He strode over to Sam, his eyes boring into hers. She looked back calmly, icily. He stood less than two feet from her, and she could smell his putrid breath. He looked at her for a long time. "I don't know you," he finally stated.  
  
"Well I guess that puts us on equal footing then, seeing as I don't know you either. I would be appreciative of you leaving however."  
  
The man with a scar sort of smiled. He continued to stare into Sam's eyes as he barked orders. "Find Travis and the girl. They'll be on horseback. Subdue her," he waved his hand in the general direction of Inez. Sam heard the bat hit the wall with a crunch and smiled. Inez wasn't about to give up without a fight.  
  
The man reached for Sam's arm and she reacted. She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward. AS he stumbled toward her she used his momentum and her hip to flip him onto the ground. Then, faster than Sam would have thought possible, she was lying on the ground next to where he had fallen. She realized at that moment that she was outclassed, and would lucky to come away walking. 'You really got to pick your fights better,' she scolded herself.  
  
She rolled away from him, narrowly avoiding a boot to her throat. She stood and he came to her, a blur of fists and feet. Sam held her arms in front of her as a shield as she was backed further and further into the corner of the cabin. She managed to catch one of the man's kicks at her hip and she twisted his ankle, sincerely enjoying the grunt of pain the man let out.  
  
It went on like that for a few more minutes. The man, fighting aggressively and delivering a set of painful, well placed blows. Sam defended for all she was worth, but she was on the losing end of the fight and she knew it. She only managed to hit him square twice. She on the other hand possessed a split lip, bruised ribs and aching knee for her efforts.  
  
Sam was on her knees, her left arm stretched across her midsection and gasping for breath. She saw his feet approach and stop just in front of her. Sam looked up, her tongue running over her teeth as she tasted the metallic flavor of blood welling in her mouth.   
  
"You're not bad." Sam wondered if that was meant as a compliment. "Not good, but not bad. You know Chris Larabee?"  
  
Sam spit at the man's feet. "If I do?"  
  
"Tell him that I'm back. Tell him I have his dear, sweet Mary and that she will remain safe, for the time being. Tell him I'm back for retribution, for my brother, and for this." His traced the ugly scar with his forefinger. A shower of sparks exploded behind Sam's eyes. She felt herself spinning into blackness, then nothingness engulfed her.  
  
--  
  
She blinked, slowly. She groaned. Every part of her body ached and she struggled to remember where she was. She pulled her left arm out from under her body and flexed her fingers, slowly working out the cramps. The cabin. Mary. Inez. Casey. She struggled to her feet. She was alone.  
  
Everything cracked as she limped to the cabin door. Her back, her knees, her sides hurt with a dull, continuous ache. She pulled open the door. The sun had not yet risen over the mountains. She swore softly. The rain had washed away any footprints the attackers might have left. 'Chris, I have to tell him.' She hobbled to the corral.  
  
"Typical," she muttered. "Five mounts to choose from and they leave me with the trail horse from hell. Just typical." She tried to whistle, but it was useless, she couldn't even pucker. "Damn it Tap. Get your big bay butt over here." The gelding ambled over, whickering happily.   
  
It took Sam nearly an hour to tack up the fidgety Thoroughbred, but eventually the job was done. She hauled herself into the saddle and pointed him back down the trail they had come up the day before. The rain had made the trail slick and dangerous. Sam gave Tap his head and worried about staying in the saddle. Every step felt like someone was rattling her teeth.  
  
Tap picked his way down the mountain with almost no guidance from his rider. Sam was still feeling the effects of her lost battle. Her eyes kept threatening to flutter shut.  
  
Horse and rider reached the truck and trailer a few hours later. At least the sun was out and had stopped Sam from shaking like a leaf in the saddle. A familiar, and welcome sight to Tap greeted them when they arrived. Clyde, Buck's gray munched quietly on a patch of grass by the trailer. His saddle hung haphazardly to one side of the horse. The gelding looked up as they reached the trailhead.   
  
Sam slithered off Tap. She reached for the door handle to the truck. 'Shit! The keys! Mary had the keys.' She rested her head on the cool glass. "Fuck it," she muttered. Sam picked a stone off the ground that was approximately the size of a softball. She backed away from the truck and hurled the rock at the window. The horses started at the sound of breaking glass, but neither was ready to leave their grazing spot.  
  
Sam opened the cab door. She knew they had left a cell phone in the truck. She found it in the glove department. She dialed the number to Chris's ranch house, hoping against hope that the ATF agents had not managed to leave on time. Oh God she was tired. She slid to the ground, unable to stand of her own power for any longer. The phone buzzed in her ear.  
  
"Vin? It's Sam. No, no ...I'm okay, sort of. ...Yeah. We've got trouble Vin... No, not on the phone. Bring the horses.... How soon? ...Uh huh, then I'll see you in two. And Vin? Bring a first aid kit." She slapped the cell shut and turned off the power. They were coming, thank God. She was just so tired. Her eyes fluttered, maybe just for a while...  
  
--  
  
"Ouch, damn it! Do you mind?" Sam yanked her head back as she felt the stinging sensation of wound cleaner seeping into the cut above her eye. Sam was still fairly groggy, Vin having woken her only a few minutes earlier. Apparently after their brief exchange on the phone, Sam had fallen into a dreamless sleep.  
  
"Well I apologize Ms. Hunter that I do not have Mr. Jackson's skills in the medical field." The southerner steadfastly pulled Sam back to where he could dab antiseptic on her head.  
  
Sam glared at him. "Nor do you have Nathan's bedside manner." Ezra didn't respond. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"  
  
Ezra flashed a small smile. "I must admit that this particular activity does hold a certain appeal. You actually admitting that you need help is such a rare event. Now hold still while I finish this."  
  
Before he could move however, Chris, Buck and JD arrived with a four horse trailer they had borrowed from a nearby rancher. Chris parked and JD bounded out of the cab. The young man rushed over to Ezra and the ever reluctant Sam looking concerned and apprehensive.  
  
He skidded to a stop a few feet away. "Lordy Sam what the hell happened? Are you okay?"  
  
"I got my ass kicked JD, what does it look like? And no I'm not fine. I hurt and your friend is taking great pleasure in prolonging my discomfort." Sam snapped. JD felt mildly taken aback. Sam was not usually so angry.  
  
"Don't mind her JD. I'd say that being walloped in a fight has put our colleague in a disgruntled state of mind," he scolded. He put down the cotton swab and stood, brushing off his pants. "You most likely have a concussion."  
  
"I'd guess it's more than likely. And I didn't mean to snap at you JD. I'm just a little out of sorts about all this."  
  
"Casey?"  
  
She shook her head. "I don't know. They left and got on the horses, but I don't know what happened after that. The rain washed away the trail and I couldn't follow."  
  
Chris strode up to the little group. Buck, who had just finished off loading the horses, trotted along behind him. "Where is Vin?"  
  
"Takin a look around on Clyde. He should be back soon."  
  
"You gonna be okay Sam?"  
  
"I'll be fine Chris," she assured him. "I'll be all sorts of black and blue in a few days, but fine."  
  
Buck grunted. "Hate to tell you this, but you're all sorts of black and blue now. How many guys were there? And what the hell did they hit you with?"  
  
Sam sighed. "Six men, but I only scrapped it out with one. And he didn't hit me with anything but his hands and feet. This guy was good. Better than me. Better than I've seen in a long while. He says he knows you though Chris."  
  
All eyes turned to Larabee. "Me? I thought this was about Mary's story?"  
  
"I thought so too, but, I don't know. He wanted Mary, that much was obvious, but he seemed to know Inez and Casey too. He comes in and kind of looks around like he knows what's what until he comes to me. He says, 'I don't know you.' I think he planned this whole thing to get to you guys."  
  
"What did he look like? What else did he say?" Chris peppered her with questions.  
  
"Medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes," she shrugged. "You know, if you brought along mug shots this would be easier. He was just, ordinary Chris. And it's not like I'm the best person to ask at the moment. My head feels like oatmeal."  
  
Chris frowned. "There wasn't anything specific?"  
  
"Had a crooked nose. And uh, he said he was back for retribution." Chris gave her a sideways glance. "Something about his brother and this real long scar he had on his face. Ring any bells?"  
  
Chris's face drained of color. "Unbelievable." His cohorts looked at him questioningly. "It was like ten years ago. I was still working homicide in the Denver PD. I got handed this one case. Linked the death of this gang banger to two drug dealers in the area, brothers. Apparently the guy had been trying to sell on their turf and they weren't happy about it. I have never seen a man as messed up as this guy. They beat him till he couldn't move and then gutted him with a hunting blade. There had been a few other murders with the same MO in the past couple of years too."  
  
Sam grimaced at the description. "That was the case I first met Mary. She was this young investigative reporter at the time. I didn't know her well or anything, just met her in passing, but still. Anyway, me and my partner track these guys to a hotel in Gunnison. We found the youngest one in their room. He must have seen us coming because he was ready for us. My partner went in first and uh, I don't suppose he ever knew what hit him. I managed to take down the guy though, but it was too late for Dave."  
  
Chris rubbed his hand over his mouth as he gathered his thoughts. "The guy died on the way to the hospital. Well, his brother wasn't too keen on that and blamed me. Came after me a few weeks later in my apartment, this was about a month before I met Sarah. I don't think I could've beat him in a fair fight, but I managed to get a knife off my counter. During the trial he went a little crazy. Threatened me. Said he'd kill me and everyone I cared about before he was done. Mary even interviewed him for her paper. I still remember the story in the paper. I thought he was locked up for good, but I guess not."  
  
"Do you honestly believe that this man is one and the same Mr. Larabee?"  
  
"Yeah Ez, it makes sense. If it is Lucas we're all in a world of trouble. The man's insane. If he gets the chance he'll make you bleed, then he'll make you die."  
  
End Chapter Two  
  
Like it? I hope so. Thanks for reading.  



	3. Perilous Endeavors

Title: Investigative Reporting  
Chapter 3:  
Disclaimer: Come on, you know it.  
Author's note: Chris, Buck and JD walk into a trap, Vin is captured, Ezra is shot, and Sam falls off a cliff. The rest I've said before. Have fun reading!  
Review: please?  
  
~~  
  
So much for a vacation. A killer was gunning for the Seven and had captured their respective female compatriots. Upon hearing Chris's description of Darien Lucas, all four ATF agents rushed to tack up their horses. If they were lucky, they could make it to the cabin in two hours and start looking for Mary, Inez and Casey. All they needed was for Vin to return with Clyde, Buck's horse. Sam, bruised and fighting the fatigue associated with a concussion was lying down in the cab of Larabee's truck.  
  
The last cinch had been tightened when the lanky sharpshooter returned on the sturdy gray gelding. Vin hopped off the gelding and quickly traded him for his usual mount, a black Quarter Horse named Peso. "I didn't see a thing cowboy. I figure that even if they had gotten lost, the horses would have had Casey and Mary back here by now. We headin on up to the cabin?"  
  
Chris nodded tightly and swung up into his saddle. "Yep. If Lucas is still as deranged as I remember he'll have left a clue. He'll want to bait us, lure us in. If you all want to back out of this I'd understand. This thing is between me and Lucas."  
  
"Maybe so pard, but we're involved now," Buck told him. "Lucas might want to taunt you, but he kidnapped our lovely lady friends. And like Sam said, there were six of them. He don't seem too interested in a fair fight. We're comin." The other ATF agents nodded in agreement. Chris smiled softly. He had never really expected less, but still wanted to make the offer known.  
  
"All right then. Mount up." Sam had heard the conversation and levered herself out of the truck. Chris shook his head. "Oh no. You've done your part Sam. Go home. Take Ezra's car and get back to the city."  
  
Sam shook her head. "There are three things wrong with that idea Chris. First of all," she stopped and motioned towards Ezra.  
  
The southerner looked outraged. "No. There is absolutely no way I'm giving her the keys to my car."  
  
"I don't need keys to take your car Ez." The realization of the statement quickly silenced him. "But that's neither here nor there. I'm not really in any condition to drive through mountain passes at the moment. I figure falling asleep at the wheel might prove, inconvenient. Secondly, Mary and the others are my friends too. And thirdly, is thirdly even a word, anyway I make it an even six on six. Besides, I owe that bastard a few punches. I'm coming."  
  
Chris said nothing. He merely spurred Job into a trot up the trail. There was no point in arguing with Sam at times. This was one of those times. The others, Vin in front and Ezra to the rear hurried after him. Sam grinned and called to Tap. She mounted, somewhat less than nimbly and set out.  
  
--  
  
The three women were huddled together in the tiny, cold cell. Mary and Casey had been discovered in the woods an hour or so after they had fled the cabin. Four men, also on horseback had surrounded them an herded them at gunpoint back the way they had come. The troop had stopped briefly at the cabin to pick up the remaining men and Inez. The bartender had been rendered unconscious by a terrific blow to the side of her head, courtesy of the man sporting a now separated shoulder. Neither had seen Sam. Their assailants had first tried to hoist Inez onto Clyde, but failed when the gelding spooked and took off. Tap was careening madly about his side of the pen and so they had settled on Spot.  
  
They marched all night without talking. The women ached from the long, hard hours in the saddle. The group traveled ever upward in the night. Mary paid attention to landmarks, hoping that they would be able to make a break for it later. It was only when they reached the camp that she had seen the leader, and the hauntingly familiar face made her shudder.  
  
It was more than a decade since she had interviewed the man, who was both a drug dealer and a killer. And upon seeing the man's scarred face, the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. Bartonelli's mysterious shipment and his almost instantaneous acceptance into the drug ring finally made sense. Bartonelli had sold out Lucas and his brother to the police, and when Darien was incarcerated he had inherited their supplies, their buyers, and even their business. She had to admit that the whole thing was rather ingenious, for a psychopath anyway.  
  
Inez groaned softly and stirred. Casey and Mary were hovering over her almost instantly. "Where are we?" Inez queried groggily.  
  
"I'm not sure. Some mountain stronghold Lucas set up."  
  
Casey glanced over at her in surprise. "You know him?"  
  
"Too well. He's a killer and an escaped convict. I did a story on him as my first real big undercover piece. He used to be a major player around these parts selling crack and meth. Then one of his associates sold him out to the Denver PD. His brother was killed in a raid and he was sent to prison for life." The blonde reporter's eyes went suddenly wide. "Oh God, Chris. Chris was the one who sent him to jail. He swore revenge."  
  
Inez dragged herself into a sitting position. "Have you talked with him?" Mary nodded. "Is there any reasoning with him?"  
  
"If Darien Lucas is the same man I interviewed ten years ago then no. I sat there with him in his cell and it was so..." she shuddered involuntarily. "Two police officers were there with me, but I gotta tell ya, I have never felt less protected in my life. The way he talked about the men he'd murdered was so...he relished it, every moment of it. The things he described, what he'd done, what he was planning to do to Chris, were so horrible. I was physically ill. I had to go home and wash. We're in real trouble here. I think Chris and the others are walking into a trap."  
  
--  
  
Six riders reached the cabin at around two that afternoon. The ground was cracked and sun baked. The breeze rustled through the leaves of the Aspens and the babble of a nearby creek could be heard. And despite all that the cabin appeared dark and desolate, quiet and eerie. Deep hoofprints littered the area around the cabin. "This was not," Sam stated succinctly, "how I left it."  
  
Chris reined Job back beside her. "I'll bet that Lucas had someone wait until you left. Then he came back and trashed the place. Let's check inside before we start tracking the guy." The men and Sam hitched their mounts to the post and rail fence and ventured into the cabin.  
  
The inside of the edifice lay in shambles. The girl's packs, once heavy and laden with food, clothes and bedding were shredded and their contents dumped onto the floor. The two windows were smashed and the beds overturned. The ATF agent sifted carefully through the rubble, looking for any semblance of a clue.  
  
"hey Chris," Vin called, "come take a look at this." Larabee strode quickly to the closet door where Vin held a large manila envelope in his right hand and a gleaming hunting blade in his left. Chris merely eyed the knife before tearing into the package. He swore softly, throwing the contents onto a nearby tabletop.   
  
Sam picked up one of the photos gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. It was a Polaroid of her lying unconscious on the floor. There were at least a dozen more, all of the Seven, Mary, Casey and Inez. Each glossy back-and-white had a red 'X' stamped over the face of the person in the picture.  
  
"This is truly demented," Ezra commented. There were pictures of them all, with the possible exception of Samantha. She was only present in the background, never the focus of the shooter. Most of the stills were dated within the last month, although some were less recent.  
  
One photo showed Mary and Chris dining at a café. Another portrayed Buck as he flirted in vain with Inez at the Saloon. Vin was shown playing with some of the kids in his neighborhood. There was even a picture of Ezra, stripped to the waist and wearing nothing but a white terry cloth towel beneath that. He was in the middle of his living room, his arms held in front of him at an awkward angle and an intense expression plastered across his face. There was enough detail in the photo to see that Ezra was perched on his toes.  
  
A crimson flush rose up Ezra's neck. Chris looked at him, "What the hell were you doing?"  
  
Ezra smoothed the front of his shirt. "If I remember correctly, and if we are to assume that the dating on this photograph is accurate, I was listening to the climax of a stellar orchestral piece. Bach I believe."  
  
"You're a weird guy Ez." Sam grinned wickedly. Although the seriousness of the situation was not lost on her, Sam couldn't help but tease the southerner a little. She snatched the picture from Buck's hand. "I think I'll hold onto this for the time being. Maybe I'll blow it up and post it in the women's bathroom."  
  
Ezra's eyes narrowed to slits. "You wouldn't dare."  
  
"Wouldn't I? It serves you right for writing, 'I am a contumacious reprobate' on the hood of my car in big block letters. Do you realize I have to get the damned thing repainted because they can't get off what you wrote?" JD raised an eyebrow at her. "Well why do you think it's been in the shop for a week? No, I think you deserve what you get."  
  
"Give me that inflammatory representation of my person Hunter!" he growled. He swiped for it and missed. "I'm not kidding. That could be considered evidence you know."  
  
"Hey!" Chris barked sharply. "Hate to interrupt you two but we need to focus. Lucas is makin this too easy. He even supplied us with a map." He unfurled the paper and lay it out for everyone to see. Two black circles marred the surface of the map. The first marked the cabin, the second the site where Mary and the others were being held. "How long?" He asked Vin.  
  
Vin traced the path between the two points with his finger. "It's about a days ride. If we leave in the next hour and ride till dark, and start again once first light hits, we should be there by ten or eleven tomorrow morning."  
  
"Let's move." Larabee headed for the door.  
  
"Hold up a second there cowboy. Let's work out a plan before we go ridin out." At first Chris was surprised, then mildly embarrassed. He usually wasn't ready to run into a fight half cocked. He halted himself mid step and came back. Vin tapped the map with his forefinger. "The trail splits here. The Western fork heads down and loops around the ridge, eventually crossing the river a few miles downstream. Once you cross, you're only about a mile or so outside of where Lucas has marked on the map. It's trap."  
  
"I'm counting on it Vin. Where does the Eastern fork lead?"  
  
"See now the Eastern fork cuts across the river here. Then there is a little trail about halfway up the ridge you can travel, but its treacherous. Saves about an hour off the ride."  
  
"Can you make the Eastern trail?" Chris asked pointedly.  
  
"Sure. I've hiked it before. I'll end up behind the camp about an hour or so before ya'll get there."  
  
Chris smiled. "Perfect. I'll take two and we'll ride around the ridge like Lucas expects. You and the others set up a perimeter on the North side of the camp. Then, when we ride in, we'll have both sides covered."  
  
Vin nodded as he considered the proposition. "I'll take Ez and Sam. If he's been watching us as closely as I think he has, he'll be expectin you, Buck and JD considering that it's your girls he has up there. I'm hopin he won't be as ready for me or Ez. And you can bet he won't be expecting Sam either."  
  
Samantha smiled wanly. "Little does he know I have a hard head."  
  
"Truly astute Ms. Hunter. Your head is not made of flesh and bone at all, but rather I should think made of concrete and is therefore not affected by a mere pummeling."  
  
Sam elbowed his side. "Shut up, wise ass."  
  
"Ms. Hunter please. I am merely stating my perceptions of the facts. Informing me so crudely that you wish for me to cease in affronting my opinions is highly inappropriate."  
  
Sam threw her hands into the air and stalked from the cabin. "Why do I even bother?"  
  
The rest of the Seven followed at a slower pace. Vin fell into step beside Ezra. "You bug the hell out of her."  
  
Ezra smiled conspiratorially. "I know. It's highly entertaining."  
  
They filtered from the cabin, stuffing their saddlebags with all the supplies from the cabin that were salvageable. Sam strapped her sleeping bag on Tap's haunches, just behind the cantle of the saddle. They left as it neared three. Vin and Chris took the lead, following the hoofprints left by Lucas's man in the mud. Buck and JD rode just behind, leaving Sam and Ezra to take up the rear.  
  
The six rode for hours in virtual silence. The rocky, rough terrain made for slow going. Twice they had to pull up and rest while stones were dug out of the shoes of some of the more tender footed horses. They traveled not on a marked trail at all, but rather gaps in the trees just large enough for the horses to squeeze through. To Vin's credit however, he lost the trail only once, and briefly at that, when the rider veered into a pine grove. Needles carpeted the earth and no hoof prints could be seen. Vin found them quickly as the pines opened up again.  
  
By the time night fell everyone ached from the day in the saddle. The horses stood listlessly, their bodies caked with dried sweat and lather. Dirt encrusted everything from the horses, to the people right on down to the food. Fortunately they were all so hungry no one noticed, or just didn't care.  
  
Chris was less than happy about stopping, but even in his current frantic state of mind, he realized that they could venture no further in the dark. He paced back and forth through the small clearing. Vin, the only person who seemed as fresh as he had in the morning, trudged off into the undergrowth to collect some firewood. Buck and JD pitched the three tents and Sam tended to the horses. And while they all worked, Ezra sat, leaning heavily against an ancient fir.   
  
"What the hell are you doing Ezra?" Sam asked. She balanced a saddle precariously underneath one arm and held a large canteen in the other.   
  
One of the southerner's eyes slit open. "I do not engage in menial labor Ms. Hunter." He seemed to feel that the discussion was finished and almost immediately drifted back into sleep.  
  
Sam bristled. She was tired, saddle sore and bruised practically from head to toe. Her right knee held a persistent dull ache she attributed to one of Lucas' kicks. Ezra was no more tired than the rest of them. She was not in the mood to do Ezra's share of the work.   
  
Sam set the saddle on the ground and strode over to where the undercover agent sat. "Ezra." No response. "Ezra," she repeated. Still there was no sign of life from the man. "Fine," she grumbled, "be that way." In a swift twist of her wrist she had uncorked the canteen and dumped it over his head.  
  
Ezra leapt to his feet. The front of his shirt was drenched as well as his hair and shoulders. "What the devil?" he sputtered.  
  
"Whoops. I guess I spilled the water for the horses." She shoved the canteen into the man's chest. "Now that you're up you can get it. There's a brook about a quarter mile that way. Thanks Ez." She left before he had a chance to argue.  
  
Ezra pushed a lock of dark brown hair off his forehead and wiped the water away from his eyes with his palm. He looked to the right and left, but no one was paying him any mind. He sighed and started off in the direction Sam had indicated. "Insufferable witch."  
  
Sam stalked away, hefting the saddle once again. "Lazy bastard."   
  
And so it was there, in the dim light of the moon that the ATF agents spent the night. They all slept on and off, waking after less than an hour to some horrible thought, some imagined tortuous deed Lucas was performing. No one, not even Ezra needed to be wakened at first light, for they had never really slept at all.  
  
--  
  
"Here we are Cowboy." Vin put up his hand to signal a halt. The six riders took in the scene. The trail, for there was an actual trail now, split into two forks. Both headed down a hundred feet or so, but in opposite directions. To the right, the trail sloped gradually down to the bank of the river. The waters swirled ominously, splitting the rock in two and forming a deep gorge with high steep walls. The other trail sloped down more steeply and edged around canyon wall.  
  
"All right then. We'll be seeing you all in a few hours then. Be careful Vin, Lucas isn't just a killer, he's smart, and that's the worst kind of all."  
  
Vin leaned against the saddle horn and tipped his hat to his best friend. "No problem pard. We'll be watchin our backs. You just remember to do the same. Don't forget, he's expecting you."  
  
With a final wave, Chris, JD, and Buck disappeared behind the massive stone wall. Vin waved his cohorts forward. They reached the bottom of the trail and spread out, riding three abreast on the river's edge. The tiny stones that lined the bank crunched underneath the hooves of the horses. The river gurgled by them, its surface unscathed by rapids. The water looking like rippling glass.  
  
"We cross here," Vin stated succinctly. "Any farther up or down stream and you'll meet up with some pretty heady rapids. It gets deep enough in the middle for the horses to need to swim, but leave their heads alone and don't try to guide them. Sound good to you two?" Ezra and Sam nodded.  
  
Vin urged peso into the water. The obedient black gelding stepped into the river with no sign of hesitation. Chaucer stopped at the water's edge and snorted. Ezra squeezed his sides gently. Chaucer responded by striking out angrily with a back leg. He tossed his head high in the air. Ezra leaned closer to his neck, murmuring softly into his ears and rubbing his silken neck. The gelding laid back his ears, but with a final, irritated swish of his tail, waded into the current.  
  
Tap placed a single hoof into the water and stopped dead in his tracks. He seemed paralyzed for a moment or two before leaping back onto dry land. The rangy bay skittered lightly on his toes. "Come on bud, it's just a little water," Sam urged to no avail.  
  
Tap became increasingly nervous as the other two horses crossed the river. Peso stood on the opposite bank, peering back at the bay curiously. Chaucer and Ezra were both occupied with the business of drying off. Tap trotted first one way, then the other, whickering anxiously to his friends. Sam let the horse stew a bit. Finally he stopped again, and Sam took the opportunity to deliver a soft kick.   
  
The horse gathered himself, sinking slightly underneath Sam as his muscles tensed. Then the gelding leapt high into the air, landing with a great splash some ten feet out in the water. He swam across, his gaze never leaving Peso. As soon as he scrambled from the water, he attached himself to Peso's side, nickering and taking a great, relieved sigh.  
  
"Where do we proceed to from the present location Mr. Tanner?"  
  
Vin tilted his hat back on his head. He pointed to the sheer wall on their right. It was nearly one hundred feet high, with tall pine trees lining its edge. "Up there."  
  
"Up where? I don't see anything."  
  
"There's a tiny trail that runs along the edge of the cliff, some eighty feet up. It winds down the gorge with the river until just past the falls. From there we can make good time to Lucas's camp." The sharpshooter didn't wait for a response, but instead aimed Peso up the new trail. Ezra shrugged at Sam and mounted Chaucer.   
  
--  
  
"You must be shitting me." Sam muttered. The three friends stood on a small ledge some eighty feet above the river below. Sam was sure Vin was mistaken. They couldn't possibly be going on the path in front of her. The 'path' was little more than a ledge perhaps twenty-four inches wide in its entirety that hugged the side of the cliff face.  
  
To the right was a smooth wall of sandstone, and to the left, a steep hill one would be hard pressed to walk down that ended in a sheer drop-off twenty feet below the path. Sam started to wheeze and turned sharply away from the edge. To her, the trail seemed barely wide enough for humans to walk on, let alone horses. She swiped at the beads of nervous sweat that started to drip down her forehead.  
  
"I shit you not," Vin assured her.  
  
"Why Ms. Hunter, do you suffer from acrophobia?" Ezra teased.  
  
"So I got a little thing with heights. What's it to you Standish? I mean, other than another thing you can laugh about at my expense." Sam snapped. Ezra was taken aback. Usually Sam took his ribbings more in stride.  
  
Vin eyed Sam. "You gonna be all right Sammy?"  
  
She took a deep breath and forced her hands to stop shaking. "I'll deal. Can we just get started please?"  
  
Vin nodded. Then he dismounted. "We walk from here on in till we get past the falls." He started over the ledge. Ezra and Chaucer followed.  
  
Sam clung near Tap's shoulder. The trail was so narrow that there was no way to turn around, no place to go back. She would have a one way ticket to the other side. "Don't look down. Everything is fine as long as you don't look down."  
  
They walked. They walked for half an hour and then they walked some more. They heard the roar of the falls before they saw them. Then, as the rounded the last hair pin curve in the trail they appeared. They were majestic, the water spilling out into the air and crashing into the pool below. A light mist hung near the base. Ezra and Vin appreciated the waterfall for what it was. Sam, on the other hand, appreciated it for what it meant; the end of the trail and the end of her vertigo.  
  
Sam tugged gently on Tap's reigns. The thoroughbred refused to budge. His ears were pricked and turned like rotating antennas. He blew out air through his nostrils and danced in place. "Easy boy." She told him.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Vin called back to her.  
  
"I'm not sure! He might be freaked by the noise. Easy." The horse charged forward, nearly running up onto Chaucer's heels before Sam could stop him.  
  
"Mr. Tanner, I believe the horses are picking up on something we are not. Chaucer too seems rather disconcerted."   
  
Sam and Vin both stared at the chestnut. He seemed, at least on the surface, to be his usual, calm self. 'That horse has a poker face as good as Ezra's,' Vin thought. Then he saw that the horse was not at ease at all, and that it was only Ezra's comforting hand on his shoulder that kept him from exploding.  
  
And while Vin was observing Chaucer, Tap was becoming ever more anxious. He flung his head around, trying to break Sam's constraint. Chaucer took a few steps forward. Tap half reared and spurted. He hit Sam with his shoulder as he charged past her. Her left foot slipped off the edge of the trail. Her injured knee, the right one, could not sustain her weight on its own. It buckled, and Sam was suddenly aware of the fact that she was sliding down the hill.  
  
She slid down the sandy, rocky slope, desperately clutching at the loose earth with her fingers. With every second she was sliding closer and closer to the edge, and a drop of more than sixty feet to the river below. Her fingers clawed the dirt, but there were no hand holds. The rocks scraped her palms and her face. Clods of dirt and debris skittered past her. Something tore at the knee of her jeans, tearing them to shreds.  
  
Her feet were beginning to slip into the air when her hand found hold of something. Her plunge was halted with a jolt. Sam looked up. A small shrubbery was all that held her on the hill. Not wanting to wait for the weed to come loose, Sam used it to haul herself up onto a protruding piece of slate. She collapsed onto the stone, her sides heaving.  
  
"Sam? Sam are you okay?" It was Vin, leaning over the trail to peer down at her.  
  
She forced herself to sit upright, noticing for the first time the excruciating pain in her knee. She looked down. When her pants leg had been shredded, so apparently had her knee. She cursed. "Well I got some good new and some bad news."  
  
A second head appeared next to Vin's. Ezra's. "Give us the bad news first."  
  
"Well, the bad new is I just fell off a cliff."  
  
Weak laughter floated down to her ears. "And the good news?"  
  
"My kneecap is still where it should be." She squinted as the sun caught her eyes. There was definite laughter this time. "How bout tossing me a rope so I can get the hell out of here?"  
  
"Hold on a second." Both men disappeared.  
  
Sam waited, and waited. Something was wrong. "Hey guys! It takes you five minutes to grab a rope off a saddle? What's the hold up?"  
  
She heard Tanner's Texas drawl respond, but didn't see the man. "Not right now Sam. Give us a minute."   
  
"hey! What the hell is going on up there?" There was no response.  
  
**  
  
Vin and Ezra stood beside their respective mounts, their hands raised slightly above their heads. "You knew," Tanner accused softly.  
  
Lucas shrugged, the aim of his gun never wavering. "I guessed. Mr. Larabee is not a foolish man. I never expected him to walk into a trap, especially such an obvious one. Although I have to admit, I thought there would be only two of you. I hadn't counted on her being here."  
  
Ezra shrugged, "She's got a hard head." Lucas' icy glare was tuned on Ezra. Ezra didn't even flinch. The glare Lucas shot him was far less intimidating than the one Chris shot him on a regular basis.  
  
"Nevertheless, it seems that I don't have any need to worry. I believe she'll remain there for quite a while."  
  
"You can't just leave her there!" Vin cried.  
  
"Yeah, you can't just leave me here!" Obviously Sam was taking part in the discussion, even though they couldn't see her. He smiled tightly.  
  
"I can do whatever I damn well please. She stays and you two come."  
  
"Obviously your mother never taught you any manners sir," Ezra chided. "if she had you would know to ask nicely." Vin rolled his eyes. Ezra really didn't know when to shut up.  
  
Lucas' eyes narrowed. "You think you're funny?"  
  
'It's a rhetorical question Ez. Don't answer,' Vin pleaded silently.  
  
"Some people find my wit endearing, even charming."  
  
"I think his wit sucks! Is that enough to warrant getting me out of here!?" Sam's voice called.  
  
"You talk too much," Lucas growled.  
  
Ezra cocked his head to the right. "I suppose I may seem mildly garrulous to a person of limited intellect, one whose vocabulary is probably limited to two syllables or less. Take heart, there a plenty of rudimentary learning programs in our states fine penitentiary."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Yeah Ezra, shut the hell up and save everyone a lot of headaches," Vin told him.  
  
"Why Mr. Tanner are you actually going..."  
  
"I said shut up."  
  
"...to side with this pathetic example of a criminal?"  
  
"Hey you!" Vin and Ezra stopped bickering when Lucas yelled. Vins' eyes widened. Ezra froze. The gun went off.  
  
**  
  
Sam cringed when she heard the shot. A shower of sediment rained down on her and her perch. She watched in horror as a figure slid down the hill. The familiar figure swathed in green slid past her and over the edge. She didn't even hear herself scream. The figure flew in the air momentarily, before slamming bodily into the water below, and disappearing in the whitewater. Sam's cry split the air, "Ezra!!!!"  
  
End Chapter three  
  
Like it? I will write more, but oh I have classes too. Darn.  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Things FAll Apart

Chapter 4: Things Fall Apart  
Author's Note: Now things start to get hairy. I'm not telling you more than that because I want to make you read. Ha.  
Disclaimer: Same as before  
  
~~  
  
The sound of the gunshot seemed almost surreal. "No!" Vin lunged for Ezra, but he missed grabbing the man by a matter of inches. Ezra's hand clutched his side and his eyes went wide. His legs sank from under him and he pitched over the edge of the trail. Vin watched, horrified, as he slipped down the hill and over the cliff and into the water below. The familiar green jacket slipped beneath the whitewater.   
  
Sam's cry echoed, reverberating against the walls of the canyon. Vin felt like he had just been punched. His hawk like gaze swept downriver, searching for something, for anything. 'The river is deep here. He could make it. C'mon Ez.' He repeated the words inside his head like a mantra. Everything was quiet. The river ran, the horses breathed and overhead a crow called, but there was no sign of Ezra.  
  
Vin fumed. His hands clenched into fists. He spun on his heel and leapt headlong at Lucas. The killer dodged Vin's wild attack and brought the butt of his pistol down on the sharpshooter's head. Vin sank to the earth, his face still twisted with uncharacteristic hate and rage. Lucas waved dismissively at the prone form. "Bring him. I want to see Larabee's face when we present him with his best friend and his new love hung up like beasts in a butcher's shop. I want to slit them right in front of him." The blonde man spun, stalking away to his horse.  
  
One of Darien's goons dragged Vin off the ground. He flung the smaller man roughly across Peso's saddle. Vin's curly hair fell down, covering his face. Peso grunted at the sudden added weight. The black gelding's ears swiveled like radio antennas, listening for the usual words of assurance from his rider. Hearing none he became nervous, but he stayed still just the same, not wanting to unseat the precarious balance of his rider. The man reached up and grabbed the reigns, twisting the bit cruelly in the horse's mouth. Peso walked slowly, shifting from side to side in order to keep Vin in the saddle.  
  
A second man reached for Chaucer. The horse wanted nothing to do with him. He raised his head high and twisted it back and forth. His ears were pinned, his teeth bared, and his eyes wild so that he somewhat resembled an irate cobra. When the man got too close he would snap at him an d half rear.   
  
"Leave him then!" The man with Peso called back. "Dumb horse."  
  
The men disappeared around a bend in the trail and Chaucer returned to his vigil of the river. 'Ezra would want me to stay till he gets back,' the horse assured himself. 'I will stay and he will be happy and he'll give me one of those tasty little mints. Then we can go home. We can rejoin our herds. He always comes back. Please come back boss.' The chestnut nickered plaintively, but his plea was lost to the roar of the falls.  
  
--  
  
Inez, Mar and Casey were still trapped in the concrete cell. Another night had passed with no sign of the Seven. They had seen their captor's only twice more; once to bring them some food and water and a second time to bring them outside into the woods to relieve themselves.  
  
"They're coming," Mary stated with conviction.  
  
"Of course they are," Inez nodded. "Sam went and brought them. It will just take them a while."  
  
Mary's frown deepened. "Inez, what if Lucas just killed her? It could take a week for them to even realize we're missing. If they don't come soon, I think we have to assume the worst and make a break for it ourselves."  
  
"If it comes to that, and I hope it doesn't, then we go together or not at all. We get to the horses and we ride as fast as we can away from here. Agreed?"  
  
Casey opened her mouth to agree and offer her sentiments, but stopped when the heavy iron door creaked. All the women scrambled to their feet, eyeing the two huge men warily. The burly, dark haired man stared at them for a moment. "Her," he said finally, pointing at Mary.  
  
"Bull shit," Inez snapped. She jumped in front of Mary, her mouth set in a firm line and her chin tilted up at a defiant angle. The dark haired man stepped forward. He backhanded Inez across the cheek. Mary flinched as the young Hispanic bartender hit the wall.  
  
Inez touched the back of her hand to her lip gingerly, sputtering angrily in Spanish when she tasted blood. The guard grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. "What did you say?"  
  
The woman's eyes blazed. "I called you an odious pile of pig shit you prick. But I think that may be too good for you."  
  
"You won't be so smart in a few days," he sneered.  
  
"Why? You gonna teach me a lesson," Inez's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Try it and I'll go Lorena Bobbit on your ass." She spit at his feet. The smug smile of superiority slipped from the man's features. He released his grip, shoving her into the wall again and turned for Mary. He dragged the reporter into the sunlight as she fought the entire way.  
  
Casey watched them go until the door was shut firmly in her face. The younger woman crouched down next to Inez. "What do you think they're going to do to her?"  
  
"I'm not sure Casey, but I think our time is running short."  
  
--  
  
Sam remained there, staring over the edge of the abyss for a long time. With every minute that passed she knew that Ezra's chances for survival diminished greatly. But she couldn't tear her eyes from the water. "Come on you arrogant bastard, surface." Her voice quavered. "Come on Ezra. I know I said you were to stubborn to die, and I know how much you like to do it, but now is not the time to prove me wrong."  
  
The minutes trickled by. She felt them, because the mangled face of her wristwatch didn't allow for a better calculation. She wasn't sure how much later, but eventually Sam tore herself from the water, leaning back against the steep slope. Her head fell, resting heavily on her knees.   
  
It surprised her when she felt the single tear run down her cheek. She swiped at it with her hand, watching the moisture evaporate into the air almost disbelievingly. She hadn't cried in years. When had that man, all those men become so important to her? When had she started to care? "See? This is what happens when you start to care damn it. You get sloppy."  
  
Sam's eyes flickered. She pulled herself to her feet, trying her best not to look down. If she looked down her head started to spin. She jammed her hand into a crack in the wall. Her toe wedged itself next to a protruding rock and she heaved herself up. She dared a look down and immediately regretted it. "Oh God," she murmured and hugged the wall even tighter. "Get a grip girl, you're all of two inches off the ledge. You can do this, now let's go." The self imposed pep talk did the trick, and she began her ascent in earnest.  
  
--  
  
Fifteen minutes later Sam finally managed to get one hand onto the trail. With a grunt she heaved herself up. She lay on her stomach, sweat pouring from her head and taking deep, gasping breaths. Her shoulders ached and her fingers were cramped from gripping tiny handholds up the hill.  
  
A soft, inquisitive nose prompted her to roll onto her back. She opened her eyes and only saw the large, soft chestnut muzzle of Chaucer breathing down on her. "Hey bud." The gelding's tongue slipped out and licked her face. Sam pushed the horse away.  
  
She wiped the saliva from her forehead. "Ugh, thank you so much for that." Using one stirrup for leverage, Sam pulled herself up onto shaking legs.   
  
As she leaned against Chaucer's silky neck, the horse lipped at her hair. He knew her; she was Ezra's friend. She even smelled a bit like Ezra, once he got past the dirt, sweat and blood at least.   
  
They stood like that for a few moments before either moved. "Come on bud, we've got to go." Sam pulled gently on the horse's reins. Chaucer refused to move, planting his hooves and laying his ears back. He wasn't fighting like he had with Lucas's man, but he would be hard pressed to move all the same. 'Boss left me here, so here's where I'm gonna stay.'  
  
"Chaucer!" Sam leaned all her weight onto the reins. Chaucer's head and neck stretched forward, but his legs still didn't move. Sam sighed. She moved back to stand near his head, scratching him just behind his left ear, the place where Ezra had said was his favorite. He leaned into the caress. "He's not coming Chaucer. Ezra's gone, he had to go, depart, leave."  
  
Chaucer knew those words. He knew them in the context of everything he hated. As in, the oats are gone, and 'I have to leave Chaucer my boy.' 'Boss is gone?' The horse wondered. 'he can't be gone. Where is my mint? Boss always gives me a mint before he leaves.'  
  
The horse nickered softly. His ears flopped to the sides and his head suddenly seemed to heavy for him to carry. Sam watched in wonder as the fight left the horse. He actually looked depressed. Her eyes widened a little. "Holy hell you know what I'm saying? Damned if you aren't more human than most people I know." She kissed his forehead. "I know Chauc, I'm gonna miss him too. Come on, we have to go." The horse took one last glance to the spot where he'd seen Ezra disappear. Then he followed with slow, ponderous steps, his toes dragging in the dust. Tap followed close behind.  
  
--  
  
Three men rode into the camp. Their eyes searched every nook and cranny in the hills. Chris rode point, just ahead of the others, his right hand resting lightly on the handle of his gun.  
  
The camp was settled in a sort of small box canyon. Two decrepit, log cabins were nestled at the far end of the valley. Hills rose on both sides, lined by tall fir trees. The entire valley was deathly still, and it made the three riders nervous.  
  
"I don't like this Chris," Buck muttered. "I feel like we're walkin into a trap with no way out."  
  
Chris didn't take his eyes from the trees. "We are walking into a trap Buck, that was the point, but we have Ez and Vin and Sam for backup."  
  
"Well that's what I'm talking about. I know they're supposed to be watchin out for us, but somethin's off."  
  
Chris didn't respond for a moment. "I don't like it either Buck." He finally admitted.   
  
"Chris," JD said quietly. The black clad leader glanced in the younger man's direction. "What's that? On the plateau?"  
  
Steel blue-gray eyes swept to the dry, flat plateau on the eastern section of hills. Two poles, some nine feet tall stuck out of the ground. Even from far away Larabee could tell that something was tied to them. "Your binoculars Buck."  
  
Buck sidled Clyde up next to Job. Chris peered through the glasses. His eyes went wide. "Dear Lord, it's Mary and Vin."  
  
Suddenly the woods were alive with fire. Six burst from the two cabins, automatic rifles firing ten rounds a second. Others lined the canyon, firing from perches behind rocks and up in trees. The horses squealed in terror. "Split up!" Chris ordered, hunkering low on Job's neck and spurring the gelding into a gallop.  
  
JD wheeled Seven to the left. Buck spun Clyde right and guided him behind some Rocks. "So much for our backup," he called. "He knew all along. Son of a bitch!"  
  
Chris was too far away to hear his friend. He guided his stalwart horse up a trail. He had to get to Vin and Mary. Lucas would be there, waiting, he knew. He fired shots into the trees and provided what little cover he could to his friends in the canyon. He just hoped he wasn't too late.  
  
--  
  
Sam arrived outside the camp a few minutes before the shooting began. It wasn't a long ride from the river to the camp, but she had gotten lost twice. She ended up in the woods surrounding the canyon and spotted the bunker from her position on Tap. She left him and Chaucer tied to a tree limb not far from the other horses.  
  
Seeing no one outside the bunker she crept closer. "Inez? Casey? Vin are you in there?"  
  
"Sam?" A mildly shocked voice answered. "Is that really you?" Inez came to the front of the cell and peered out the tiny, barred window. Casey stood next to her, practically having to haul her slight frame off the ground to peer through.  
  
"Yeah. Are Vin and Mary there with you?"  
  
"They took Mary away about an hour ago. What happened to Vin?"  
  
"Lucas caught him. He trapped me, Vin and Ezra coming along the river. It was supposed to be a surprise attack, Chris leading from the front and Vin from behind. Unfortunately, Lucas knows these hills better than we so he was ready for us. Took Vin with him."  
  
"And Ezra?" Inez questioned. The bartender had always had a soft spot for the southerner.   
  
Sam swallowed the lump in her throat. "Lucas shot him. I don't know where he is. What I need to do now is get you two out of here and warn Larabee."  
  
"UH Sam?"  
  
"Not now Casey, I have to think."  
  
She felt the thin metal barrel being pressed into the back of her neck. "Oh." She chuckled nervously and held her hands up. "No reason to get trigger happy now."  
  
"I think I have every reason." The voice said from behind her. He cocked the hammer. Sam winced, squeezing her eyes shut, and prepared herself for the inevitable. It didn't come. There were two thuds. She turned to find the man crumpled unconscious on the ground. Her head shot up.  
  
Ezra stood before her. He was drenched from head to toe and pale, but alive. "Ezra!" Without stopping to think Sam leapt on him, hugging his neck fiercely. "I thought you were dead."  
  
The southerner carefully peeled Sam's arms from his neck. "Yes well, I am truly fortunate that the rumors of my demise are somewhat premature. Mr. Lucas has terrible aim."  
  
"SO he didn't shoot you?" The question came from inside the cell.   
  
"Well now, I didn't say that Ms. Casey." Sam peered at his coat and then saw the red stain creeping across his undershirt. Ezra went to take a step, but his strength seemed to fail just then and his legs gave way. Sam caught him and lowered him to the ground.  
  
"Shit Ez," she murmured as she peeled away first his jacket and then his undershirt. She touched the flesh around the bloody wound and Ezra sucked in a breath. The muscles in his stomach contorted as he hissed.  
  
"It is not quite so bad as it looks, I assure you."  
  
"Right, and I wasn't a thief way back when."  
  
"Actually Ms. Hunter, I would counter to say that you will always be a thief at heart."  
  
Sam suddenly felt less sorry for him. "How do you figure? I quit and I left to go to college."  
  
"And what was your chosen field of study?"  
  
"Law."  
  
"I rest my case." Sam shot the man a dark look.  
  
"hey! Sunny and Cher, we still need to get out of here if you don't mind holding your comedy routine for a minute."  
  
Sam blushed and searched the downed guard. She threw her hand in the air a moment later. "No keys. What now?"  
  
"I have in my possession a set of very serviceable lockpicks if you care for them," Ezra offered.  
  
"You carry around a set of lockpicks?"  
  
"Never know when you might need them."  
  
"You really are a weird guy Ez."  
  
"Yes Hunter, and you're the picture normalcy."  
  
"Shut up Ezra. My being weird has no bearing whatsoever on your being weird, and you..." Inez cleared her throat loudly. "Right, the picks. Where are they Ezra?"  
  
"Left jacket pocket." Once she had the tools Inez and Casey were free in a matter of moments.  
  
"Inez, the horses are less than a quarter mile into the forest down that little trail. Take this," she handed Inez one of the man's two pistols. "And Chaucer is...well Chaucer is right there."   
  
Indeed the wily chestnut was trotting gaily toward the small group. His tail streamed out behind him like a flag and he whinnied happily, for he had smelled Ezra on the breeze. Tap followed behind him at a more calm jog. The chestnut thrust his nose into Ezra's chest, nickering ecstatically. Sam watched him, hands on her hips. "You know, I tied you to that tree for a reason." The horse snorted a response.  
  
"Never mind. I'm going after Vin and Mary. Just get out of here. The southern trail should take you in the right direction."  
  
"Vin and Ms. Travis are presently incarcerated on the plateau. Watch yourself Hunter." The first of the shots rang out. Sam hurriedly stuffed the second pistol into her waistband and slung the rifle over her shoulders.   
  
"How do you know where they are?"  
  
"I saw them on my way into camp. Of course, I didn't get lost on my way in."  
  
Sam sighed. "Take him away. Take him and his escape artist of a horse and go, please. Good luck."  
  
"You too," the others echoed. Sam mounted Tap and cantered off.  
  
--  
  
Vin's face twisted as he wrestled in vain with the ropes that bound his wrists. The rough rope burned and sawed into his flesh. When the shooting started all sense of thought left his mind. He hurled himself against his bonds, his heart hammering inside his chest. He had to help his friends. They were waiting for backup that was not to be.  
  
"Sam," Mary cried. Vin's head whipped to the right. Much to his delight, and utter surprise, there she was, riding toward them at a fast canter.   
  
She and Tap slid to a stop beside the two poles. She cut Vin free first. He rubbed his bleeding wrists. Sam tossed him the rifle. "Courtesy of one Ezra Standish."  
  
"What the?" Vin laughed, "That man has more lives than Cuervo. Thank God. He alright?"  
  
"He'll be better when the docs dig that bullet out of his side, but yeah, he ain't bad."  
  
Vin nodded tightly. "Good, now get Mary out of here."  
  
Sam shot him a sloppy salute. "Yes sir." Vin ran toward the edge of the canyon a few yards from the poles, providing cover for Buck and JD. She cut Mary's ropes as well. "Miss," she offered her hand. Grinning, Mary swung onto Tap behind her. Then they cut for the woods.  
  
--  
  
Buck and JD were pinned by fire from both sides. The two agents were both so concerned with the men above them that they could only fire sporadically at the men approaching them from the cabin.  
  
Buck cut down a man that had broke cover and was running for JD. JD fired into the trees above Buck. They were outgunned, out-positioned and outnumbered. Darien's men kept getting closer, despite their best efforts.  
  
And just when it seemed that they were about out of luck, a shot came from the rim of the canyon. A man perched in a tree above JD fell. The shots were careful, never rushed. Only one man shot like that. Buck whooped. "Yeah Vin!!" JD too, had noticed the additional friendly fire. He pumped his fist into the air.  
  
--  
  
"Lucas!" Chris shouted. "It's just like you to run, you coward." He dismounted Job and slapped the black horses rump. They were perhaps a mere quarter mile from the canyon, but the shots seemed incredibly distant.   
  
Larabee loaded a new clip into his 9 mm. Trees rose all around him, blocking the bright afternoon sun and giving the area a dim, ominous presence. The hairs stood up on the back of Chris's neck.   
  
"You ran when my partner and I found your brother," he goaded. "You tried to run from us when we got too close. You waited till I was alone and unprepared to make your revenge. I'm alone now, so come and get me."  
  
The shrill, hysterical wail of a madman came from just above. Larabee's head shot up to see Lucas crashing toward him. He had been hiding in a tree some ten feet off the ground. Chris managed to raise his gun, but the shot went wide, and then Lucas crashed into him.  
  
***  
Sam was riding back from dropping Mary with Ezra and Inez. She had planned to flank the other side of the canyon from Vin and offer more cover, but hearing the lone shot from the woods she altered her path.  
  
The gun flew from Chris's grasp. The oiled black machine skittered away, disappearing under a bush. As Lucas jumped off him, Larabee rolled away. Chris held his hands in front of him, ready for whatever Lucas had to bring. He had wanted to avoid this very situation, fighting hand to hand, because no matter how he looked at it, Lucas was just better.  
  
Lucas had no qualms about displaying his superiority either. He flew at Larabee with every martial arts attack he knew. Chris countered with boxing moves. His fist lashed out, catching Lucas in the chin with a jab. The killer's head snapped back. His eyes burned.  
  
Lucas threw a roundhouse left, which Chris countered with a right block. Unfortunately, the block left his chest exposed, and Lucas pounced. Lucas planted a boot in Larabee's chest. When the ATF agent doubled over he brought two fist down on the back of his neck.  
  
Chris crashed to the ground and Lucas began to kick him unmercifully, in the legs, stomach, and head. Chris curled into a fetal position, covering himself as best he could from the ground.  
  
Lucas never saw the horse coming until it was too late. Tap pounded down at him in a mad gallop, faster than Sam had ever ridden in her life. She leaned far to the left, like a steer wrestler before he launched himself at the steer.  
  
Sam judged her approach carefully, trying to decide the best time to leap on the man. She was only a few yards away when Lucas glanced up. They galloped closer. Sam leapt from the saddle. Sam was no steer wrestler. She had misread exactly how fast Tap was galloping and jumped from the saddle too late. Her leap was carrying her past Lucas. Instead of slamming into the man with the full force of her body, and subsequently using him to break her fall, Sam sailed past his head. Only her right hand managed to snag Lucas's shirt.  
  
She flipped head over heels on her way to the ground. The earth rushed to meet her in a dizzying spiral. The shirt ripped as she sailed by. She landed awkwardly on her left shoulder, her back and hips soon to follow, sliding a few yards before she stopped completely. Lucas on the other hand, was rendered mildly off balance, but it was enough.  
  
Chris bounded to his feet in the confusion. While Lucas teetered, Chris tackled him around the waist, driving him bodily to the ground. Chris then rendered him unconscious with a one-two combination to the head.  
  
Chris staggered to his feet and shuffled over to where Sam still lay. He looked down at her. "I think you missed," he stated dryly.  
  
"I hadn't noticed," she squeaked.  
  
"You gonna get up?"  
  
Sam bit her lip. She pondered the query for a few minutes. "NO. No, I think right here is good for now. Yeah. Bring the stretcher here and then we'll talk." Larabee couldn't help it. His shoulders shook. His lips quivered and he laughed, and laughed, and laughed.  
  
--  
  
"Miscreant."  
  
"Jackass."  
  
"Obstreperous creature."  
  
"Bastard..." The technician closed the door to the helicopter.  
  
The women and the ATF agents chuckled. "At least Ez feels up to arguing with her," Buck offered.   
  
"I'd be worried if he didn't," Chris agreed.  
  
They all trooped back to where Casey and JD waited with the horses. The last police wagon had loaded Lucas and two of his cohorts less than fifteen minutes earlier. Team Seven had once again prevailed over immense odds. They had radioed the nearest town from Lucas's cabin to send police wagons. Then they had called Denver hospital and arranged for Sam and Ezra to be air lifted out.  
  
"You do realize Cowboy, that you're sending those two, unsupervised to the hospital. Lordy do I feel sorry for those in the ER tonight."  
  
"Forget tonight," Mary chimed in, "What about when they feel better?"  
  
"So then I guess we're gonna head back huh Chris?" JD asked.  
  
"Why?"  
  
JD seemed a bit puzzled, as did the others. "Don't you want to keep an eye on them?"  
  
Chris paused by Job's saddle. "JD, I have to deal with those two, and the rest of you something like three hundred days a year. The medics assured me that Ez isn't in any danger, and Sam's injuries are minor. The way I figure it, someone else can deal with them for a few days, because I am not, however much I sometimes feel like it, a babysitter. I still have four days left of my vacation and I plan to enjoy them. Lucas kept his cabins well stocked with supplies. Who's with me?" A loud chorus rang up from the rest of the party. Chris grinned, vacations are nice.  
  
THE END  
  
Like it? I hope so. Thank you for reading.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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